Four Fronts

Four Fronts

Eons stilled the first dawn
Since a stoic sculpture stood
Marching towards wondrous fields
With each noon light’s passing

So the stalwart stood
Every day being there
Stood steadfast against the
Incursion of the East

Every noon opens new fronts
Where statue stood defending
The four armies approached
For all times to stop and see

What the statue might do
How the simple stoic stone
Might react with stiff sinews
And eroded sculptings

But the field didn’t care
A neutral base of a place
Where things are given terrain
To go ahead and take their shape

Rolling hills at four horizons
Signaled the supposed end times
So a field let the armies approach
To observe and recite the dirge again

But it was over


Over once more

Sun’s overhead

Staunch statue split to face
The spectral swarms forthcoming

An elegy stopped the incursion
A dirge ended the approach
No woeful words by statue spoken
But was a field’s symphonic sayings


Sayings of statues
The statue was dead
Armies can’t slay it
Before now it erodes

Where the stone spray flays
And creates wondrous things
A statue spurred and incurred
Upon the field its incursions


Incursions stopping
The coming clashings

“Look at it shine,
Oh bearer mine,”
Says the field with a sigh
“There is much life left to live.”

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